She's Innocent
by losing-him-is-blue
Summary: They had a hard time keeping her alive - Haymitch fights with Coin over Effie's release. 'How many people have died already? I've lost so many acquaintances, my friends, I can't lose her too. Not her. She was instrumental in creating this rebellion, whether she knew what she was doing or not, and I sure as hell won't let her die for it.' Hayffie one shot.


The meeting in Command has been going on for about an hour now. Only high-standing rebel brains are assembled, and unlike me, the small group of people around the table seem very interested in Coin's monotonous talk - Plutarch especially, who keeps babbling on excitedly whenever she proposes a new strategy. I'm slumped in my seat, contemplating whether I can sneak out unnoticed, when Coin says something that catches my attention.

"Also, we have new information regarding what happened to District Twelve's former escort,"

"Yes, Effie Trinket, we have footage of her capture," Plutarch interjects. He says that like its good news. I glare at him.

"She was not executed, as we already know, but recent evidence tells us she is being held in the same prison as the victors," Coin says evenly. "As of yet, there are no plans to have her rescued along with the victors. Much like the avoxes and other prisoners, her fate is still to be decided. She is not a priority." I clench my teeth.

Plutarch raises his hand to start the video, but hesitates slightly, his eyes flickering to me.

"Play it," I demand, bracing myself.

The screen lights up immediately to show our living quarters from the most recent Quarter Quell. Effie is stood by the sofa, gripping the edges so tight her nails actually tear into the fabric. She watches the screen on the wall. That's when the Peacekeepers burst in, seizing the two Avoxes first. The girl goes quietly, with nothing more than a look of panic in her eyes. Darius puts up more of a fight, moving to try and protect the girl. That's when Effie steps forward, protesting and demanding to know what's happening. One of them shoves her roughly out of the way, knocking her into the glass coffee table, shattering it. Blood flows immediately, covering the white carpet, staining her dress.

For a moment she is still, and I hold my breath. After a few seconds she stirs, and sits up, looking at the mess surrounding her. Her eyes widen in panic as she takes in the blood around her, realising that it's hers.

"Help!" She begins to shout, "Help me please!"

"Get her," one of the men orders as he leaves with Darius. Two Peacekeepers grab her. She shrieks and thrashes, but to no avail. She wouldn't win against them on a good day, never mind after being cut to ribbons. They drag her from the room, kicking and screaming, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. Then the screen goes black.

I feel sick to the stomach, and I think there's a very real possibility I might vomit. How could anyone do this to her? How could I let this happen? I thought she would be safe.

We sit in silence around the table; all trying to process what just took place. Well, all apart from Coin, who seems as professional and cold as ever, reshuffling her papers and moving on to the next item of business. I feel a sharp pain, and look down to see the broken end of my pen wedged into my hand. I must've snapped it in my fist. Finally, I find my voice.

"That's it then?" I ask incredulously, cutting over whatever nonsense Coin was droning on about.

"Sorry?" She doesn't even look up.

"That's all you've got to say?" I snarl, my eyes narrowing as I glare at the top of her head.

"Well," she calmly places her pen down before looking up. She seems to have a talent for making my blood boil. "What do you suggest Mr Abernathy?"

"I suggest you actually _do_ something about this!" I explode at her, slamming my fist on the table.

"I've already disclosed our strategy and I thi-"

"Fuck your strategy!" I yell in her face.

"Haymitch…" Plutarch warns, but I ignore him. This has nothing to do with him and I couldn't care less what he thinks.

"You can't just leave her to die," I continue, standing now, my anger building as I stare at her smug face. No not smug. Amused. "I won't let you. You're sending men in there anyway, why can't they rescue her too?" I'm bellowing as I round the table to where she sits.

She sighs wearily. "Soldier Abernathy-"

"I am _not_ your soldier," I growl, fuming now. "I don't have to follow your orders."

"Soldier Abernathy," she continues as if I haven't spoken, "at a time like this, someone has to call the shots and somebody will have to pay the price," she states matter-of-factly.

"No!" I shout. How many people have died already? I've lost so many acquaintances, my friends, I can't lose her too. Not her. "That's not good enough."

"Why not?" She asks, raising an eyebrow, "she's not even on our side,"

"I don't care!" I see Plutarch open his mouth to intervene again, but I silence him with one glance. In the back of my mind I know I should keep my cool but I just can't stop myself. All I can see in my mind is Effie being dragged away, her blood all over the floor. "She has no-one. She doesn't even know what's going on."

"So she's collateral damage," Coin states, still impassive - almost bored.

Bile rises in my throat as I attempt to control my boiling rage.

"You could excuse anything by saying that," I spit. The entire room is silent, and while I'm sure her soldiers would never openly question her like I am, they seem curious as to how this will play out. Plutarch's not even trying to interrupt anymore.

Her cold eyes stare me down. Her face still seems uninterested, but there's a spark of something else in there. A warning.

"But it's not anything; this is war, and, at the end of the day, she's just one woman among thousands. A Capitol woman, no less."

"Is that what this revolution is about then? I thought we were fighting _for_ equality."

"Oh I am," she replies calmly, although she bristles slightly as all eyes in the room turn to her, "but I believe people of questionable loyalty are not a top priority."

"It's not questionable. Didn't you just see what they did to her? Of course she's with the rebels, I wouldn't defend someone who wasn't,"

"Well you're defending the boy, and he has said enough to jeopardise this rebellion as it is,"

I run my hands over my face in an attempt to contain my anger at her stupidity.

"They're being tortured!" I explode at her.

"Exactly, and if Peeta has become this adverse to the idea of equality, imagine what a former escort might think. One who was of rather high standing, I might add, and already had everything she could want. Imagine what it would look like if we freed someone like that."

"Bullshit. I know her. Better than anyone here. She was instrumental in creating this rebellion, whether she knew what she was doing or not, and I sure as hell won't let her die for it. Not if there's a chance we can get her out."

"The mockingjay didn't even care to mention her release…" _The mockingjay_. She doesn't even see Katniss as a person, just another pawn at her disposal. "Why is Miss Trinket's fate of such consequence to you?" She narrows her eyes at me.

"She's m-" I stop myself just in time, because I have no idea how I'd actually end that sentence. She's my what? I can hear her broken voice ringing in my ears, '_We're a team… aren't we?'_ I let her down.

I sigh, my anger fast evaporating, leaving only pain and weariness. "She's innocent in all of this,"

Coin doesn't move. It's as if I haven't even spoken. She's not going to fold this easily, not unless I make some sort of threat. Every time I shut my eyes, I see Effie's broken body. I feel the fire flare up in me again as I stare at her - it spurs me on.

"Well," I start, walking slowly towards her. "The mockingjay doesn't seem to want to co-operate as it is. Imagine how much harder it would be if her mentor refused to co-operate too." It's a dangerous move, but as far as I can tell, she still needs her mockingjay. She still needs Katniss, and therefore, she still needs me on her side.

She fixes me with a long hard stare. All eyes are on her. I might as well push my luck. I lean over until my face is mere inches from hers.

"Don't mess with me woman," I whisper threateningly, "I'm not a man you want to cross."

I'm on thin ice here and I know she could go either way. Her eyebrows rise fractionally but the rest of her face remains a composed mask of indifference. We stare each other down until, finally, she yields.

"No, you're not are you? Very well," questioning glances are shot her way as she speaks in an extremely measured voice, "I'll add her to the list of people to be rescued." I resist letting out a sigh of relief. She pulls out an official-looking note and scribbles _'Effie Trinket' _on the bottom of it. "Re-print this - four copies," she orders, handing it to a soldier before waving him out.

"You may leave now," she says, returning to her paperwork, "I'll have one sent to your quarters."

"I'm not going anywhere 'til that kid comes back with my copy." I state. I want to see her sign it.

She sighs. "I'm sure."

She doesn't look up again until the guard returns. She signs the papers hastily, before standing and turning to face me. She's uncomfortably close, her cold eyes boring right into mine. My anger roots me to the spot – it's the only thing strong enough to keep me there, staring her down.

"You worked hard to protect this revolution Mr Abernathy; it would be a shame if it fell at your hand," she remarks icily.

"It won't." I spit, snatching the paper from her.

"Just remember _soldier_," she stresses the word, "You're in District 13 now. We run things differently here."

_Oh I know that Coin_, I think, longing to say it out loud, _I've know that for quite a while now_.

I leave without another word, slamming the door on my way out.


End file.
